Cultivating the Epicurean Life at a Napa Vineyard

Sacramento is the capital of the state of California, but California is more than just a state. It's also the land of dreams, and the capital of Dreamland is always moving: from San Francisco during the Gold Rush to the Depression-era San Joaquin Valley to Hollywood in its golden age. Dreams also fueled the flight to Haight-Ashbury during the Summer of Love and, a generation later, to the Silicon Valley in the throes of the high-tech boom.

And then there's Napa. For years a particular type of dreamer has gravitated toward the fertile, temperate hills of this American Provence. Fred Constant, who came to Napa after a long and successful career developing and operating radio stations—living "everywhere from Hartford to Honolulu," as he puts it—is one. He might have retired, settled down somewhere and devoted himself to the task of perfecting his golf game. Instead, he and his wife, Mary, moved here, lured by the grape and the dream of its ultimate transfiguration.

The space needed "to integrate our life as winegrowers with the architecture and food we enjoy," says Fred Constant. The goal was "stunning simplicity."

The couple began producing Constant wines from grapes grown on their Diamond Mountain Vineyard in 1995, getting lucky their first time out; their inaugural vintage was hailed by Wine Spectator as "can't-miss," and subsequent vintages have been received with equal enthusiasm. For nine years they lived in an 1895 farmhouse, their careful restoration of which eventually earning them an award from Napa County Landmarks, the local historic preservation society.

As happy as they were in their farmhouse, the Constants wanted more—and less. Their lives revolved around wine, food and entertaining. Now they dreamed of a beautiful but simple space at the summit of Diamond Mountain, a temple to Epicurus from which they could cook and pour for themselves and others while taking in 360-degree views of Knights Valley, Alexander Valley and Calistoga below. It didn't need to be large. It didn't need many rooms. But it needed "to integrate our life as winegrowers with the architecture and food we enjoy," says Fred Constant. The goal, in his words, was "stunning simplicity—and, of course, simplicity is probably the most difficult thing to establish."

As it happens, Howard J. Backen was looking for a project like the one the Constants were proposing. As the wine country's go-to architect, he's frequently asked to build houses reflecting the unique tastes and perspectives of the driven, often idiosyncratic personalities who populate this rarefied world. He gets lots of requests for "theme houses," he says. "I don't mind doing them, because people like them. But when someone says that I don't have to—well, I don't."

When you're 2,200 feet above some of the most beautiful natural scenery on the North American continent, the last thing you want is to be surrounded by four walls. Backen gave the Constants a large central pavilion with cooking, dining and living areas under a single barnlike roof; the glass doors leading to the long covered porch are almost always open. ("We didn't air-condition the building," notes Backen. "In order to get a nice air flow, you really need to get both sides open, or else this wouldn't work.") The site is kissed by westerly breezes and significantly warmer morning temperatures than are to be found in the valley below, making climate control largely a matter of sliding a door this way or that, just a smidgen.

The house is entered through a "cave" of native stone taken from the original excavation; it doubles as a fully bonded winery. "The cave was a way of getting some wine storage and introducing the wine to his house," says Backen. Having a winery in his front hall means that Constant, who sells grapes to other vintners in addition to bottling his own wine, now has a ready reply whenever someone asks him how involved he is in the quotidian details of his operation: "I tell them that I walk by my barrels several times a day."

Outside the couple's bedroom is Mary Constant's vegetable garden, the bounty from which is regularly brought into a kitchen that boasts a collection of more than 700 cookbooks. Local culinary celebrities stop by from time to time to "guest-cook," though Fred Constant claims his wife is "probably the greatest of all." The Constants can even process their own olive oil, courtesy of the grove of 100-year-old olive trees on the property.

Among the Bible's many guidelines for living a healthy, upright life is this all-time favorite of epicures: "A man hath no better thing under the sun, than to eat, and to drink, and to be merry." It could have served as part of Howard Backen's brief for a house that celebrates the relationship between nature and palate. For the food-and-wine-loving Constants, high above Napa Valley—a spot providentially blessed with all the prerequisites for sublime merriment—life is indeed a sweet dream fulfilled.

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